Fallout: Existence & Identity
by dragonclaw1000
Summary: The Courier's name and legacy has been torn apart. He is a faded memory to most. However when the nation he built calls for his aid, and the people glare with contempt at his passing. The Courier will find his oldest enemy's will be his closest ally's.
1. Out of retirement

Hello, this is my third attempt at writing an... acceptable, Fallout fiction. The first two had much the same story, but this will take quite a different turn. Hope you enjoy and if not, I don't know, I hate you or something.

Give me any criticisms or suggestions you may have.

* * *

Chapter 1: Out of retirement

The sun shone through the spider web cracks in the window, illuminating the somewhat stuffy and barely standing court house. The warm Mojave day had been getting to everyone, most people in the jury and viewing rows were wearing pre-war shirts with handkerchiefs to wipe themselves clean of the sweat and humidity, though most had their attention focused sorely on the trial at hand.

"Ethan James Kane, you stand accused of the destruction to more than half of the New Vegas Marines, how do you plead?" the old grizzled Judge asked, clearly wishing he could sentence the man on trial to immediate execution, but the Council had made it clear that they wanted him to be kept alive convicted or not.

For his part the man did not speak, instead looking at the judge and jury with indifference, thinking of when he used to command these people. The man on trial was once a legendary figure, the leader of the entire Mojave wasteland to be exact. His hair was white and his eyes pink from albinism, for attire he wore a standard black suit with a white untucked shirt. The man simply looked at the floor, his face still showing no emotion.

"You do realize that by not answering you will have no case and will be immediately sentenced to life in the New Vegas Correctional facility?" the Judge said, annoyed at the former leaders silence.

"I'm fully aware of my predicament," Kane began, "but given the immeasurable odds placed against me by the people, the "council", and the law..." he paused slightly, "there is no need for a defense."

The Judge pondered for a moment then banged his gavel against the weathered wood of the semi-standing court house, "Ethan Kane. This court finds you guilty of the slaughter of seven hundred innocent men and women of the Marines. I hereby sentence you to life at the correctional facility. May god have mercy on your soul..."

* * *

_July 8th, 2293 - New Vegas penitentiary_

The bustling canteen radiated with cliques of prisoners forming their own corners and preying on anyone smaller or weaker looking than them, although for the penitentiary's standards it was quite calm. Only a few fights had broken out and no serious injuries had happened, at least not yet.

A bleak and bitter looking man sat at the cafeteria desk staring at his untouched food, various inmates chatting and yelling around him with guards trying to keep the peace.

Most inmates were made of killers, thieves, and former powder gangers that Kane had helped put away some time ago, which made the irony of being a criminal like them all the more bitter.

"Hey, Courier," a gruff voice from behind Kane, "you've been a bitch to get a hold of, even with five years here, you scared of me or somethin?" the voice said with a laugh, mockingly tapping Kane on the side of the head.

"You too dumb to speak?" he said, forcing Kane to face him, "you ignoring me fuckhead? I will beat you to within an inch of your life!" he said as a small crowd began to form around the two men, a few others joined to back up their friend. The guards hadn't bothered to do anything, believing that, if no knives or weapons were drawn, it would be a good way to allow the prisoners to let off steam.

"Fighting you would prove nothing. Besides, I've scraped shit off my boot more threatening than you," Kane said, looking the inmate up and down, clearly unimpressed.

With that the inmate heard enough and lunged for Kane, his arm outstretched and ready to take his head off with one well placed punch. Kane however saw it coming. With years of experience and Big MT cybernetics on his side he was able to effortlessly dodge the blow, sending the surprised inmate tumbling in a heap.

The Inmate's friends began to try and take the Courier down. One ran at him but was caught with a swift knee to the stomach, knocking the wind out of him and sending him crashing violently to the floor. Another tried taking him by surprise, but the Courier ducked and flipped him over by the arm making him land on top of his friend.

The Prisoner who had started all of this regained his composure and caught the Courier off guard with a swift cheap shot to the face, but to his astonishment the Courier barely moved, simply putting his hand up to his cheek. With a tap and nod of acknowledgement, he kicked the Inmate in the jaw smashing his teeth together and sending him flying at the cheering crowd who were more than happy to see an actual ass kicking for once.

However, Kane's new found fame would be short lived as he was quickly sent to the floor by a shearing pain in his back as the Guard's stun gun took full effect, making Kane fall to the floor and then slip unconscious.

* * *

_New Vegas Penitentiary - Interrogation Room_

The room was dark and humid from the harshly hot Mojave weather. Adding to the bleak depressing scenery were dried stains of blood adorning the walls and floor, most likely the results of several botched interrogations and beatings.

The metal baton was brought upon Kane's bare ribs, once more causing him to cough up some blood not being able to shield himself in any way due to the restraints that held him against the wall.

"Saito!" a commanding voice called as the door opened, bringing some light into the dark dingy room, "you need to pace yourself, we can't afford to lose another one, the media will have a field day," he looked at Kane's bruised body and scoffed "and besides, This bastard deserves the longest time possible."

Saito growled and delivered one final strike against Kane's head before throwing away the baton, he walked out of the room leaving only the Warden and Kane.

"You, amazingly, have a visitor." The Warden said, giving him one more glance before walking out and leaving the Courier alone with his thoughts.

Kane looked down and struggled to breath in, the act of doing so causing him immense pain. He looked down as far as his restraints would allow to see the small pool of crimson liquid that had amassed at his feet.

"Ethan J. Kane... Never did I think I'd meet you alive," a smartly dressed figure said. An emblem of the Council on the left side of his suit's collar that read:

_No gods, no masters, only man._

Kane looked up to face this man, wondering what he could possibly want since the council had buried his name and legacy the second he was incarcerated.

"Well, you did. Would you like a medal?" Kane responded with annoyance, thinking this lackey should be thankful he was restrained to a wall.

"No," The Messenger chuckled, "they aren't giving them away THAT easily." he said, pulling a piece of paper out from his jacket pocket.

"As a matter of fact, you have been granted a very... unique opportunity to integrate with society once more," The Messenger folded the piece of paper in his hands, "luckily for you, we've spared you from being another 'cover up'. If you will please follow me to your cell, we'll discuss more there." The Messenger said as two guards came to undo Kane's bonds and escort him back to his cage.

* * *

_Kane's Cell_

The setting Mojave sun shone faintly through the bars of Kane's cell, the only light source aside from the hall lights that were shut off near ten 'o clock. Kane had much time to examine and learn his cell, and eventually it was as familiar to him as his now confiscated pip-boy, a fact that annoyed him greatly.

"So, here's our proposition, " The Messenger began, "The Council has been under fire by the people of the Mojave due to the growing Resistance movement that has been attacking our army's supply caravans, destroying any of our campaign posters, and interrupting speeches among... other things."

"Am I supposed to give a shit?" Kain asked, his hands still cuffed together to keep him from attacking the messenger, "I'm not surprised you have a resistance on your hands. Maybe it's because of your dictatorship like rules and your treatments of anything not human." Kane added.

"Perhaps, but it is a necessary evil," The Messenger responded calm and businesslike, "we haven't been able to get rid of them due to their changing bases and guerrilla warfare tactics." He unfolded the paper in his hand, "We have however been able to identify their leader, a man you know quite well. All you have to do is kill him and we will release you from incarceration. You will then be free to walk the wastes once more with no repercussions on your past."

He handed the paper to Kane who barely managed to hold it thanks to his bonds.

It was a photo taken with a Codac R9000 of the resistance leader.

_Craig Boone_.


	2. Out of the frying pan

Thank you for taking the time to give an amateur writer and Fallout fan a chance by reading my second chapter.

Special thanks go to KaGed my Beta-reader for without him this story wouldn't even be here (at least not in this good a form) at all. And that's the plain truth of it.

Vault Kid: I do my best. :)

Ethan: Thank you, hope this chapter is a bit more in depth for you.

morjackdan: I hope to continue my wonderfulness, thank you for your compliment.

This chapter was brought to you by half a bag of Doritos (Cool original), A can of Red Bull and DragonClaw1000. Enjoy the chapter!

* * *

Chapter 2 : Out of the frying pan

"No!" was the reply Kane gave the representative, with a fierce scowl clearly showing him that were it not for his bonds The Messenger would be dead in a heartbeat.

"Hmphh," The Messenger said with a frown, "we'd anticipated this, but still I'd have hoped you'd be a bit more willing to compromise or even consider..." The Council Messenger said, his voice rising in anger but then calming back down into its usual relaxed and professional tone.

"You come here after destroying my life!" Kane yelled, the veins of his neck bulging with a dark red, "and then expect me to kill one of my friends. All because of the vague promise of freedom and because you asked nicely!" Kane charged at him leaping off his seat but was jolted back. Looking at his feet, he cursed under his breath as he was securely chained to the floor to prevent any sort of attack from a prisoner. He had to hand it to the designers, they took every precaution possible.

"Think of it this way, Ethan," The Messenger began standing up and pacing back and forth in the cell, the sunlight shining dimly off of his expensive grey suit, "you DID lose everything, but it was due to your own folly not ours. Now we stand offering you the once in a lifetime chance to leave this rat infested hell hole. All you have to do is kill one man. If you do it right and quick nothing more will be expected of you and you'll be free to leave. Perhaps go to New Reno, I hear the Shark Club is doing quite well," The Messenger said with a faint smile.

"And why do you need me?" Kane asked, pretending to entertain the thought, "from what I understand, your "Council" has plenty of cut throats and commandos for this type of thing."

"Yes, we do, but the Rebels are quite smart, moving bases, only attacking important but hard to defend areas and the such, and besides you know Boone better than anyone. All you'd need to do is locate and kill him and then you're completely free," The Messenger said, sitting back down on the bed across from Kane.

"And if I refuse?"

"Then you'll have slightly annoyed the Council, but think of it this way: you will be left here, same as you have been for the past five years. No closer to freedom, no closer to seeing your friends or perhaps even looking through your... incident," The Messenger declared, standing up and preparing to leave.

The mention of the incident had Kane's attention. He hadn't considered that after he was finished there was a chance he could find out what really happened the day when his life crashed and burned, but he still had to cope with the fact that he would be killing a close friend of his who was fighting for something Kane would've wanted to take part in.

"It's your choice," The Messenger said, "but this is the only time I will ask. Choose quickly however, I do, strange as it may seem, have much more pressing matters to attend to." He patted away some of the dust from Kane's cell off of his suit, seeming eager to leave regardless of the news.

"I..." Kane paused. He had been away for so long, heard so many horror stories on how rebellions were put down, saw martyrs wind up as just another "traitor" In the eyes of the Council's propaganda. Perhaps it would be a mercy killing for Boone, but then again he could just be deluding himself and if Boone was the leader who else could be helping him?

"I... will," Kane finally responded, his voice hollow and robotic sounding. He stared at the hard concrete floor wondering what the hell was going to happen next.

"Excellent!" The Messenger said, his face brightening up. He pulled out a small box and placed it in front of Kane then untied the bonds on his hands. "Now, in here you'll find everything you need," he pulled out an empty 45. Auto pistol, a picture of Boone as he appeared now-a-days as well as Kane's old desert duster and clothes.

"Get dressed, you have a friend who will be... guiding you, if you will, through your mission," The Messenger said, his smile still prominent on his face. With a slight nod he walked out of the cell.

Kane looked back at the photo of Boone, his cell door slammed shut and would re-open when he was set to leave. He stood up and began to dress himself like the legend he used to be.

* * *

New Vegas Penitentiary - Courtyard

The Messenger led Kane outside into the warm Mojave sun, Kane truly feeling how hot it was this time of year given he didn't get out of intensive care much. The Messenger continued rambling on about how things would be great and what an opportunity this was. Kane was too busy looking around the landscape beyond the chain link fence to pay him any mind, only focusing his attention to the bright lights of the New Vegas strip in the distance.

"Now, we'll be giving you access to any information we currently have on the rebels or any that we come across. First off however, we'd like you to meet your handler," The Messenger said with a beaming smile that forced Kane to fully restrain himself from knocking him out. The Messenger stepped to the side upon introduction.

After all the years that had passed it was fairly easy to remember the man who stood in front of Kane. Ashen blonde hair, smart straight glasses, lab-coat that now had the insignia of the Council rather than the Followers and of course the trademark sarcastic humor he always carried.

"Hello, Ethan," Arcade said with a smile as he crossed his arms.

There were two things Kane wanted to do. The first was to embrace his old friend and ask him about everything he had missed. The second was to berate, yell at and attack him for working for the Council.

"Gannon! Never thought I'd see you working with the Council," Kane said in a somewhat joking tone.

"There's only so much you could do when they're kicking down your doors and aiming their plasma rifles at you," Arcade replied with a shrug.

"As much as I hate to break up this happy reunion," The Messenger began, "I do have the previously said matters to attend to. If you would be so kind as to explain his task on the way, that would be swell."

Kane glared at The Messenger whilst Gannon simply rolled his eyes. The Messenger pulled something out from his breast pocket that looked like a smaller more compact radio. He began calling for a vertibird to pick them up.

As if on cue, a large jet black transport vertibird materialized from behind the mountains. The seal of the Council and it's motto proudly stamped on both sides of the vehicle.

The vertibird landed and its doors opened. Two soldiers stood on each side to undo Kane's cuffs, still keeping their guns trained on his head, the only part of his body that his cybernetics couldn't repair, go figure.

Arcade and Kane sat at the back of the vertibird. This particular one was much larger, most likely for any en-route or emergency meetings since there was a makeshift wall and door to keep curious ears at bay. Arcade leaned in however, still not convinced of the supposed privacy, and began in a whisper.

"We're in a lot of trouble," he whispered. Kane was about to say something sarcastic but was cut off by a stare from Arcade that told him this was more than important, "The Council have been facing fire from most of the lower and some middle class citizens for not dealing with this rebel business sooner. I know what you're thinking, that I've turned traitor, but that's far from it. All hell broke loose when you were incarcerated. Soldiers were kicking down the doors of the Lucky 38, and taking anyone close to you as prisoners. Not in the same sense as you but as forced labor. Me and Raul didn't get out in time, Rex was saved thanks to The King having some degree of weight from a Freeside rebellion, which is the last thing he needs. He loves that dog."

"That all?" Kane asked, worried as for what else happened.

"No, Kane... Lilly was killed in the attack," Arcade answered somberly, looking down out the window.

The news hit home for Kane. Remembering Lilly's happy and optimistic outlook on life after taking her full medication to make her own path, always eager to help him or anyone else with their troubles. That was gone now.

"Cass, Veronica, ED-E and Boone made it out, but I guess you already know about Boone. Kane, they're hoping to get both you and Boone's rebellion killed," Gannon said, confirming Kane's thoughts.

"You think I'll survive?" Kane asked with a weary sigh.

"I hope so Courier. I hope so." Gannon replied as they neared the neon bathed town of New Vegas.


End file.
